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This post will remain at the top of the blog for the next couple of weeks, but to read the most recent posts, please just scroll down.

So the site says that I am in Denver, the trucks and rest of the crew are somewhere in Angola and blogs and content are sparse. For over a month we were all stuck in the Congo, as you are well aware from the blogs, we could not get visas for Angola.  Right now we are in the process of shipping the trucks to Buenos Aries and trying to raise funds for the South American segment of the expedition.

Since we were held up for so long, I had to fly back to the states from Pointe Noire, Congo, so that I would not miss my sisters wedding. Being forced to leave from such an odd place, it cost a tremendous amount of money to get me back to Denver. Where I am currently stuck… (more…)

I am sure you have probably all been wondering what the hell has been going on with the expedition. Well, the quick and dirty answer is twofold: a lot and not much. In the last five and a half weeks we have managed to drive a grand total of about 360 kilometers. We were stuck in Pointe Noire, Congo for exactly four weeks until we decided that we needed to pull the plug on the Angolan visa process there and try our luck elsewhere.

We have been in contact with a Dutch couple that we met in Nigeria who have been following a similar route and although they experienced problems of their own in Cameroon and Gabon, made it through Brazzaville, Congo and Matadi, D.R.C., where they got five day Angola transit visas issued to them in 24 hours. Based upon that information, we packed up the trucks and headed towards Brazzaville because we were also informed that we would be denied entry into the D.R.C. without a letter from the Angolan Embassy in Brazzaville stating that it was possible to get a visa in Matadi. For the D.R.C., no proof of onward travel, no entry, plain and simple.

Sounds easy enough right? Drive 360 kilometers to Brazzaville, get a letter from the Angolan Embassy the same day, drive to Matadi the next, get a transit visa for Angola a day later and within a week or so, we would be sitting pretty in southern Africa with the problem areas comfortably in our rearview mirror. However, in the infinite wisdom of Lord Buddha, when it comes to the future, “whatever you think it will be, it will always be something different.” This line of thinking could not possibly be more applicable that here in Africa.

The road from Point Noire to Brazzaville takes the cake as being the worst road we have driven on during the expedition. In fact, I would feel comfortable betting that it is the worst road in the world. We got the trucks stuck on multiple occasions in mud that was waist deep. We were forced to drive on small deviations that took us up hills at what seemed like 45 degree angles, and at one point, we had to actually build a bridge with the help of some local villagers using bent railroad rails and rotted logs to get the trucks over a narrow, but very deep culvert.

Stuck in the mud again

Truck blocking a section of Congolese national highway route N1

As if the road were not exciting enough… it took us the better part of three days to drive the 360 kilometers from Pointe Noire to Brazzaville, we had to contend with the rebels. There is a region of the Congo just west of Brazzaville known as the Pool Region. The Pool Region is home to the remnants of the rebel army that had been fighting the Congolese government during the bloody civil war here in the 1990’s. After a peace treaty was signed in 1997, the rebels were out of a job and although the rebels, locally known as the Ninjas, received some political concessions, the unequal distribution of wealth in the Congo they were fighting a decade ago still remains largely in tact today. With no money, the rebels have little other choice but to get what they can from people crazy enough to venture down route N1.

It was not long before we had our first rebel encounter, but we were prepared… at least as prepared as you can be for a rebel encounter in the middle of the Congolese jungle, and made it through the makeshift checkpoint for the price of a few packs of cigarettes and some vitamins that had been floating around the Tundra. The Ninjas were actually pretty cool, telling us that with no jobs, they are forced to “tax” people on the road. If the Ninjas go to the bigger towns to look for work, they are arrested and thrown in jail. When we told the Ninjas that we sympathized with their situation and that we were American tourists, they insisted on taking photos with us. The whole situation was a little nerve wracking, especially since most of the rebels were either drunk, stoned, or both. Additionally, many of the Ninjas were armed with AK-47’s which they demonstrated were very much operational. Shattered nerves and gray hairs aside, we got some pretty sweet shots with the rebels… it is not everyday that you can whip out a photo you took with some genuine Congo rebels.

Not what you want to see when you come around the corner

Mark and the Ninjas

We encountered several more Ninja roadblocks along the road to Brazzaville, mostly at huge mud pits where vehicles had become stuck. The Ninjas would happily help dig you out of the mud for a large fee and they had it set up as such that no matter which way you drove, you were going to get stuck. Lucky for us, we had two trucks, snatch straps and our own shovels, so when we did get stuck, we did all the work. Because they could not ethically “tax” us for work they did not do, they let us pass in exchange for a few small “gifts,” e.i. cigarettes, broken sunglasses, and bananas. We had hoped to make it out of rebel territory in one day, but the condition of the roads ensured that was not going to happen. As it turns out, we ended up spending a night at a rebel camp with the district rebel chief, Mr. Tompette. Mr. Tompette was very hospitable, and let us park our trucks near his compound so we would be safe for the night. We even watched old DVD’s of the 10th anniversary of the peace treaty with our rebel host as other Ninjas gathered around, grumbling when they caught a glimpse of the president on the screen. The next day, after playing around with some guns and taking a few photos, Mr. Tompette provided us with a Ninja escort all the way to Brazzaville, completely free of charge.

Today on Mr. Tompette’s Neighborhood, the Americans drop in…

It was a lot harder than we thought, but here we are in Brazzaville, Congo, which according to Aneki.com, is the city with the worst standard of living in the world. The people are actually pretty friendly here, and although there are signs of development and progress in Brazzaville, visible remnants of the civil war still exist; buildings pockmarked with bullet holes, security checkpoints, a strong military presence, etc. We were originally planning on being out of Brazzaville in a day or two after getting the letter we needed from the Angolan Embassy, but as luck would have it, the Consul, the only individual in an entire three story building with the ability and authority to sign our letter, is on vacation for a week and we arrived just as he was packing his suitcase. I should get Lord Buddha’s view on the future tattooed on my eyelids. That way, I will not be surprised when the simplest of tasks becomes a monumental undertaking. As a result, we once again find ourselves playing the waiting game while trying to ignore growing feelings of déjà vu. It is reported that the Consul will return from his holiday on Tuesday… we can only hope.

We have covered a lot of miles on The World by Road and the terrain we have driven is as diverse as the countries we have passed through. Obviously, the road can get pretty bad from time to time and it always leads to the same question: Is this the worst road we have been down? There have been quite a few occasions where the answer to that question is an assertive “YES!” However, on a road trip like this, just when you think you have seen the worst of it, there is always something else lying in wait around the next corner.

The road that was waiting for us just on the other side of the Nigeria-Cameroon border on the way to Mamfe was a beast, and for the time being, it is without a doubt, the worst road we have been down on the expedition. We had been warned about this stretch of road, but the warning did little to prepare us for what we actually encountered. Mud pits, fallen trees, more mud pits, etc. Hopefully there will not be any roads in much worse shape than the road to Mamfe because if they are, they are for the most part impassable. In fact, I can hardly believe that we actually made it through some of the obstacles on the way to Mamfe. I guess that is a testament to the durability or our Toyotas and our driving skills!

Kilometer 26 of the worst road yet

This is the MAIN road from Southern Nigeria into Cameroon!

The current No. 1 was no problem for The Thundra

All this talk of bad roads led us to sit down and reflect upon all the rough stretches of road we have had to navigate during the course of the expedition. The end result of that reflection is a list of the worst roads on The World by Road. So without further adieu, here is The Top Ten Worst Roads On The World by Road. It is funny looking back and remembering what these roads were like at the time… when we went through Poipet on our way to the Ankor temples in Cambodia, that was the worst road any of us had ever been on. Now, that stretch or road barely makes the top ten. Obviously this list is subject to change before we are through with this whole thing, but for the time being…

 

The Top Ten Worst Roads On The World by Road

* Outside of UB, there are very few stretches of paved road in Mongolia. In fact, I would not even really consider most of what we drove in Mongolia to be a road. If you are going anywhere in Mongolia, most likely, it is off road and can get a little bumpy every now and then.

** The road surfaces in Nigeria are pretty good for the most part, however, the drivers there are so reckless and bad, that simply venturing out on the roads in Nigeria is a risk to your health. Nigeria may not have the worst roads in the world, but hands down, they have the worst drivers so we had to include them on the list.

What else would you expect when you are in the middle of the Sahara Desert? All of us knew that we would encounter lots of sand as we drove through the western part of the Sahara on our way across Mauritania, but I do not think any of us would realize just how much sand we would come into contact with… literally. Thanks to our friend Paul (AKA - Soloride) TWBR is now equipped with a GPS device. The GPS unit helped Paul navigate his way around the perimeter of the United States and we were confident that it would help us navigate our way through a 250 kilometer stretch of the Sahara Desert… all off-road. After a 24 hour cram session on how to use the GPS, we plotted our way points and headed off into the sand.

There is actually supposed to be a town here?

When we actually did stop at what the GPS unit told us was the turnoff for the “beach run,” I could not believe that I was actually about to drive off a nice sealed road and head out into blowing Sahara sand. The situation was even more logic defying given that we had talked to numerous people about the run through this part of the desert and getting stuck in the sand not once, but multiple times seemed a near absolute certainty. It did not take long for those words to prove true. In fact, it only took about twenty minutes.

Round one…

Round two…

The power of the Thundra actually made our lives a lot easier in the desert

Finding some firmer terrain is always a treat

Digging your car out of the sand is hard work in any conditions, but doing it in the mid-afternoon Sahara sun with temperatures well above 40 degrees (100 degrees F) makes the task even more challenging. Luckily, we had decided to purchase some eight foot sections of wood to use as “sand planks.” When you are driving off-road in the desert, sand planks are an absolute necessity and we soon found out the benefit of spending $25 for some makeshift planks in Nouadhibou. By the time the planks had helped us out of the sand twice over the span of about two hours, I realized that it was probably the best $25 I have ever spent in my life.

Hopefully the last of the digging… collecting Sahara sand for souvenirs

Thundra “Money Shot”

During the next three days, we probably ended up digging the trucks out of the sand at least seven times, and even though the sand planks make the job exponentially easier, I think that by the seventh time, all of us had enough experience getting unstuck to last a lifetime. Even though navigating our way through massive dunes and deceptively soft stretches of sand was a lot of work, it was well worth it. The Sahara Desert has to be one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Perfectly sculpted sand dunes stretch as far as the eye can see… real Laurence of Arabia type stuff. It is not too often that you can peer out over an endless stretch of sand and say that you actually drove your truck through it. We also managed to find some dunes to play on and although though the surfing has been fairly flat down most of the North African coast, we at least got to put the boogie boards to good use.

Not many people can claim they drove through terrain like this

Bouey catches some air off dune number 5783

While Shoppman demonstrates how easy it is to knock the wind out of your body

In the world of auto racing, the Dakar Rally is a big one. The race has gone on for nearly 30 years (2008 would have been the 30th anniversary event) and draws thrill seekers, adrenaline junkies, endurance drivers and gear heads from all over the world. The Dakar Rally used to originate in Paris, and more people might know of it via its former name… the Paris-Dakar Rally, but for the last few years, the starting gun has been fired off in Lisbon, Portugal. Unfortunately, this year the starting gun has been holstered and the only thunder you will hear from engines heading south from Lisbon are coming from the airport. Reluctantly, the organizers of the 2008 Dakar Rally canceled the event the week before it was slated to begin as a result of some unfortunate incidents that occurred along the race route. Some of the incidents were directly related to the race and others were not, but in any event, the organizers of the Dakar Rally were faced with a decision that no race director ever wants to make.

It truly is a shame that the Dakar Rally was canceled this year and hopefully things will improve so that the race can carry on once again in 2009. Without a doubt, a lot of people in the overland community saw the cancellation of the 2008 Rally as a door being closed, however, in true TWBR fashion, we have seen it as an opening. The Rally makes a few detours out into the Sahara to test the fortitude of its participants, but essentially, the race consists of who can drive from Lisbon, Portugal to Dakar, Senegal in the shortest amount of time possible. It just so happens that our route through Africa takes us approximately along the same route as the now canceled Dakar Rally.

We were not really planning on heading to Portugal, but once we heard that the Rally had been canceled, we came up with this crazy idea to be the unofficial winners of the unofficial 2008 Dakar Rally. Lisbon was a 600 mile detour and it turns out, only a few of us made it… Steve and Mark stayed behind in Spain to try and deal with FedEx and Spanish customs and Brook, Craig and I headed to Portugal in the Sequoia in part to take in a country that none of us had been to before, but also in part to kick off the 2008 The World by Road Dakar Rally (TWBRDR). On February 11, 2008 at 3:00 GMT the TWBRDR was off, but not before dealing with some problems of our own. Not five minutes before we returned to the truck from lunch to commence the rally, the Lisbon police found a boot (wheel clamp) big enough to put on Little Pepe. It turns out we had parked in a loading zone but because none of can read Portuguese and the sign did not have any little symbols of things being towed away, we did not think twice about our designated starting line. Oh well, 30 minutes and 50 Euros later we were on our way and as far as we know, there are no other participants in the 2008 TWBRDR, so we did not loose any time to other competitors. Next stop, checkpoint two and a rendezvous with the other crew members in Algeciras, Spain for the car ferry to Morocco. Hopefully they know the TWBRDR is on its way!